


Clarity

by nicasio_silang



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-09
Updated: 2012-05-09
Packaged: 2017-11-05 01:03:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/400739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicasio_silang/pseuds/nicasio_silang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She sees double-breasted suits in his future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clarity

**Author's Note:**

> Written just after the first Iron Man film.

One afternoon, taking a moment out of the day, on the couch in Tony's tv room, her legs folded under her, her arm stretched out to toy with the strings of the Les Paul he hasn't touched in years, Pepper imagines, quite vividly, Tony in thirty years' time.

She sees double-breasted suits in his future, knows he'd be horrified to hear it now. His hair streaked with gray, in her mind's eye, looks very becoming. Striking. She hears a conversation sometime before then, when the salt and pepper is only just gathering at his temples. In front of the mirror one morning, he'll say,

"Potts, I look ancient. Why haven't you told me. I'm not leaving the house until you bring me a colorist. A discreet one. And some chicken wings. Spicy. And an ahi burger."

"You look your age, Tony. Even vaguely dignified if you keep your mouth shut." She'll reach over and put her hand through his hair quickly. She'll be able to do that by then. "Anyway, I like it like this."

He'll look over at her suspiciously, turn to see himself from every possible angle, a favorite hobby. 

"I'll give it a week. If you think it's so sexy."

"Not what I said."

"Isn't it?" And in his smile the sides of his eyes will crinkle a bit more. 

She sees it just like that, while she holds the high E string taut on the tip of her little finger. She lets it go and it rings awfully out of tune, though not as awful as it should be if he hasn't picked it up in as long as she'd thought. At the same time as she sees him sitting up here, early hours of the morning, or maybe just at daybreak, tuning his guitar and playing some secret Zeppelin, she sees him ten years from now, in an honest-to-god smoking jacket. 

He owns a few already, of course, but he'd say he bought them ironically, and she's only seen him in one once. Agreeing to an interview at home, he "spontaneously" wandered in from the bedroom into the kitchen wearing a ludicrous purple and red velvet one, and silk pajama pants, while she was showing the poor journalist around. He strutted around for a good five minutes before going back to change.

In a few years, though, he'll just start wearing them one night and not be able to stop. She can see it. 

Later that night, over sushi, barbecue ribs, and productivity reports, she asks where he sees himself in ten years. He takes it as a business question.

"Jesus, Pepper, I've just started this whole corporate and personal responsibility scheme, try not to lay on the pressure too thick." He doodles something, pushes his beer around, looks at her sidelong after a moment, then back down, scribbling. "Doing something worthwhile, something you could be proud of. Using the suit for something... I don't know what yet." But she knows he does, knows he has an endless list, but doesn't trust himself to get around to it all. "Why, you making a ten year plan, Potts?"

She's looking right at him but he won't look up. It's a bit cold; she can see goosebumps on his arms. 

"What do you think of S.H.I.E.L.D?" she asks. He glances up nakedly horrified, looking for the joke.

"You want to work for S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"What have they," she clicks her pencil a few times against a fingernail. "What are they asking you to do?"

"Nothing yet, they just told me to make myself available." He smirks for her. "Emergency and rescue operations is what they said. Better not mean kittens in trees, or..." 

He fades off like he meant to, but really, she thinks, he doesn't have an or else. They just don't know, yet, what it all means. She can see he's drawing schematics for something now, rough and disconnected like Chinese written impatiently. He must want to get back down to the workroom, the garage, but he's staying. 

"I can't find out anything about them, or Fury. There's nothing anywhere. The website's one page linking back on itself and the number Agent Caulson gave me connects to a voicemail box without a recording and he just calls back after I call, even if I don't leave a message."

"Been calling up Agent Cardboard, Potts?" He puts his pen down and pops some salmon sashimi. 

"We don't know anything about them, Tony."

His eyes aren't too dark when he says, "Nobody knows the future, Pepper. And I can always blow them off, I'm good at that." But she isn't sure.

They're sitting kitty-corner to each other, and he leans sideways over a stack of papers to say something up close next to her cheek, but when he gets there he just pauses, and she doesn't know where to move. Taking a moment, they just stay close. She sees a smattering of gray along his jaw. She doesn't say anything yet.


End file.
